Over-border Friends
by KT-FeatherSage
Summary: Shadespirit lost a close friend that night, but in the strangest way possible, she gained a new one


The night was both quiet and noisy, still and moving. There was no breeze, yet the clouds were grey and rain was falling in thick, wet sheets. The undergrowth seemed undisturbed until there was a splash and a jet black she-cat broke through a hazel bush, icy blue eyes narrowed. She shook out her wet paw and looked around to check that no one was near. Seeing it clear, she continued onwards.

The battle had barely stopped when she'd left, tired of watching cats who didn't care 'grieve' over her best, and only, friend. Her mother and father always told her to not get attached, she was ill and weak and it would break her heart if they were close when she died, but she didn't listen. She couldn't. Hibiscuswing was the only one who understood her, in ways not even her parents could. With no siblings she was ever lonely, and when she tried to make friends they always broke away from her and abandoned her with harsh words. She was too trusting, and she learned to trust no one.

Hibiscuswing was different. She was scared and skittish, but the one thing she didn't fear was death. She knew it was coming for her, chasing up behind her. The black she-cat respected her for that, as she feared her death. It was unknown, and she was naturally scared of the unknown, because she wouldn't know when it was coming until it was on top of her. Hibiscuswing, alike her, had often been cast out by her denmates because she was weak and scared continuously. She couldn't trust, and that was how they became close friends.

Yet fate came too early for her liking, and she was struck down as she defended the Medicine Den, too weak to try and parry the furious blows.

And now she was alone

She found herself by the RiverClan border, and noticed a light brown tom swimming around leisurely despite the horrible weather.

"Hey you! Fish-Clan mange-pelt! Get over here so I can claw your stupid face to pieces!" she shouted across at him. He stopped his paddling and looked at her.

"Nice to see you too Shadespirit." he replied casually, continuing.

She was already mad in a cold, icy way, and this just increased it. "Stop using your horrible voice and get over here _right now_."

She saw him shrug and he swam over slowly. She knew his name, Weaselpelt, and they were somewhat friends from Gatherings. At last he arrived on the bank and shook his fur out, splashing her.

"I'm here now Shadespirit, what do you need?" he asked politely.

Shadespirit calmly raised her paw and slashed him across the shoulder. He slowly looked down at the cut then back at her without a word or flinch.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked, voice devoid of emotion.

"Thank you for your time." she replied coolly, turning around and walking off.

She had only traveled a few fox-lengths when she heard his footsteps as he followed behind. "You should really work on being quieter," she noted without turning around. She felt his shoulders brush her side as he shrugged again.

"Oh well, not like it will help you when you want to hear me coming in an ambush." he replied.

She felt a twinge of frustration that he was right and instead said "Well I can hear you coming now, and we are on my land so you might wanna get lost 'cus I now actually _do_ have an excuse to claw you to pieces." she glanced at him, "And your face hasn't gotten any better-looking in the past few minutes so there's my extra motivation."

"Neither has yours."

She kicked him slightly and he stumbled but didn't fall. "Hey what was that for?"

"Speaking to me like that." Mock-vanity began to creep into her voice.

"I literally replied with a lesser version of what you said to me."

"But who gave you the right to say it?"

"My moral sense and my godly ancestors in self-defense of my beautiful face."

Shadespirit suppressed a smirk of genuine amusement and turned around so that they were walking back to the river.

"Your 'godly' ancestors? Who are they, the Gods of Fox Dung and the Dirtplace?"

Now it was his turn to kick her playfully. She tripped and rolled right back onto her paws smoothly.

"No. Why are they yours? Oh wait no, I forgot. Yours are the Gods of Bad Retorts and Dark-Forestworthy Sass."

"At least mine are Gods of useful tools and not supreme ugliness."

"Touche."

They continued on in silence for a few heartbeats as they reached the border again.

"Well, I'm very sorry, Shadespirit, but this is where we part. Maybe, if you are lucky, you shall be blessed by the presence of my shining handsomeness at the fast-approaching Gathering."

She nudged him playfully, something she hadn't worn for a long time creeping onto her muzzle. A smile. "I'd rather not be, though it would definitely be rather funny to see the looks of horror on new apprentices' faces when they see yours for the first time. Adios, amigo."

And she crept away, knowing that though she had lost a friend on that night, she had gained a new one.


End file.
